


Dragonkin of Gaia

by Faerie_of_the_Moonlight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Additional Characters to be added, Animal Transformation, Dragons, F/M, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, parallel worlds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerie_of_the_Moonlight/pseuds/Faerie_of_the_Moonlight
Summary: Marceau Châtelet is a premed student with a part time job at an art gallery. Generally, he keeps a fairly normal, if hectic, life. Nothing too spectacular, all in all. He never expected to find a dragon outside of his apartment complex. What he expects even less is what that dragon pulls him into. There's no doubt that his life will be up-heaved by this discovery, but just how far depends on how much he can keep himself in check. Can he really avoid letting himself get attached to the young man the dragon leads him to?WARNING: ALTERNATE CHARACTER NAMES USED. France is Marceau, Ramiro is Spain. If you don't like this, don't read it and yell at me. Please respect me and walk away. Thank you.





	1. A Typical Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to what I'm planning will be an in-depth fantasy story with dragons, magic, and all kinds of shit. Don't have much to say here other than read and enjoy. (Maybe leave a comment if you really want to?) French translations will be at the end, but I use Google Translate so please let me know if they're wrong!

After a hectic week of bouncing between work and university, Marceau was always too happy to pass out during the weekend. Saturday was the most relaxed because he wasn’t dreading going back to the routine the next day. But there was always the ten or so attempts by his friends to get him out partying with them. He hadn’t had the energy to go partying since lycée.

For as much as he valued his free time, Marceau seldom ever did anything with it. Rather than go out partying or shopping, he found relaxing on his couch with a sketchbook and movie the best use of his remaining energy. At least it was somewhat productive, even if his sketching was mostly mindless doodles.

But he enjoyed the quietness. Whether he was attending his premed classes or working at the gallery, his days were spent chasing his ass and downing caffeine like it was his lifeblood. Which it kind of was. Without caffeine, he wouldn’t be able to function through his morning classes, let alone make it all the way through to seven, when he was finally done with his obligations. Until Monday, as far as he was concerned the world outside his fifth floor London flat didn’t exist.

That was… assuming nothing _blew up_ outside his building. That’s what it sounded like. Or lightning―but there was no storm, so that couldn’t be. Jumping out of his seat on the couch, he ran over to his kitchen window to see what the noise might have been. He couldn’t see anything other than a small trail of smoke coming up from the bushes in front of the steps. Nothing else seemed out of place, but something didn’t feel quite right. No one else seemed concerned. Then again, most of his building was reclusive or were never home.

Well, it wouldn’t be good if their front porch caught on fire. After waiting another moment, Marceau sighed as he realized he would be the one who had to go check on the apparent fire. Slipping a pair of sneakers on, he speed walked down the stairs as quick as possible. Without falling and knocking his front teeth out. It wouldn’t be the first time he had fallen on the stairs.

By the time that he made it down the stairs, the smoke trail was gone, but there was still a smell of burning grass and sulfur. Why sulfur? Was that explosion from fireworks? What idiot would be lighting fireworks at nine p.m. on a Saturday?

Walking closer to try to see what it might be in the bush, Marceau stopped abruptly and stared. His brain wasn’t quite processing what he was seeing. There was no logical explanation for what was in front of him, but there was also no denying it. There was a fucking dragon in his bush. Why was there a goddamn dragon in his bush? How could there be a dragon?

Said dragon―if he wasn’t hallucinating―was about the size of a large dog, vivid green with wings that probably spanned three feet and a tail that was at least two feet. It seemed to be sleeping at first glance, but then it was much clearer that it was in fact injured.

That observation made him feel bad, but… it was a dragon. Dragons breathed fire. If they were real. Which they couldn’t be, but apparently were. How that could be, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t even want to be outside, let alone be looking at a wounded dragon. What was he supposed to do? Turn around and leave it there?

In a numb sort of haze, Marceau reacted like he would if he found any other wounded animal. (Could dragons be counted as animals? Were they reptiles?) He tried to pick the dragon up as carefully as possible―the last thing he needed was to wake it up somehow and startle it―and tried to carry it inside. Tried. The thing was at least 130 pounds! “Bon sang!” he groaned, feeling his knees ready to buckle. Getting it up four flights of stairs would be a nightmare on his back.

He had to stop several times to catch his breath and nearly dropped the dragon at least ten times, but Marceau managed to get back up to his flat without any major incidents. Other than finding a bleeding dragon in a bush… Just a typical London Saturday, of course.

Not ready to also wash blood out of his couch, he set the dragon on the dining table and collapsed into a chair, chest heaving and arms aching. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He had carried a wounded dragon to his apartment. Had he taken LSD without realizing it? And how could that thing be so heavy? It may have been the size of a dog, but most dogs weren’t that heavy.

Once he got his breath back, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the thing. He had a first aid kit, but he didn’t know how to treat a dragon. Did anyone? “What am I supposed to do with this…?” he breathed, dropping his face into his hands. He hadn’t thought about it at all; acting on instinct to help a wounded animal. Or dragon. It was more mythical than animal.

Not for the last time, Marceau seriously considered if he had taken drugs without realizing it. Or maybe he fell asleep on the couch and he was dreaming. The ache in his lower back said otherwise. Decisively.

Twenty minutes later, he had gathered his wits and wandered into the bathroom for the first aid kit. He didn’t know what to do, but he could at least use gauze and sanitary wipes. Right? Cleaning it could hardly hurt it.

In the process of bandaging the dragon, Marceau discovered that the scales were smooth and cool to the touch. The wings were a little over two feet wide each and the tail seemed to be close to three, though it was thin and easy to move out of the way. Overall, it seemed fairly thin. Which led to the question of how much a larger dragon would weigh…

Patching the dragon up as best as he could, Marceau moved it over to the couch. He prayed that it wasn’t… feral and wouldn’t destroy everything once it woke up. If dragons could exist without society knowing about them… surely they were intelligent? Hopefully his good deed wouldn’t bite him in the ass and set his apartment on fire.

Exhausted and drained, he decided on an extremely early night and promptly went back to his bedroom to collapse into bed. Maybe other people would’ve been kept awake all night thinking of the possibilities, but after carrying 130 pounds up four flights, he was drained. Mentally and physically. So much for his calm weekend.

 

The next morning, Marceau woke up feeling like he got wasted the previous night. Except it wasn’t so much in his head and moreso spread throughout his body. Painfully concentrated in his back, calves, and arms. He spent a good fifteen minutes trying to remember what kind of manual labor he had subjected himself to to have that kind of ache. He hadn’t moved flats, so it couldn’t have been that. Ramiro hadn’t dragged him to the gym, either.

Sitting up with a jolt, he suddenly remembered. The dragon. He had moved a 130 pound dragon into his apartment. Had he lost his goddamn mind? He knew part of his decision had been shock, but that didn’t make it any less stupid. Whatever it was, it was still a wild animal. He wasn’t the type of person who took stray dogs in. Why would he take in a dragon??

Half tempted to bash his head through the wall for his stupidity, Marceau carefully got out of bed and pressed his ear against the door. He couldn’t hear any movement. Or any fires burning, for that matter. (Why? _Why_ had he been so stupid?) Anxious and suspicious, Marceau opened the door as slow as possible, creeping into the hallway. He did his best not to make any noise, or else risk waking the possibly sleeping dragon.

His apartment was intact as far as he could see from the hallway―which was really just a portion of the living room and kitchen and the front door. But so far so good. Nothing was falling apart in a hellstorm of fire and pissed off dragon.

When he made it to the corner that separated the hall from the living room, he hesitated before peeking around the corner. He had another instance of immense shock. Rather than a dragon the size of a dog sleeping on his couch, there was a blonde… teenager? Man? Male? (Still not taking drugs, right?)

Contrary to the scaled beast, the young man had scruffy blonde hair, freckles across his nose, and pointed ears. He was wearing clothes that would be more in place in some gothic photoshoot―a white button-up under a tall-collared black coat with floral designs along the edge and tailcoats that touched the bottoms of his mid-calf boots. All in all, very strange looking. And _not_ a dragon. There was also gauze lying in bundles around him.

“C'est quoi ce bordel?!” he hissed, pulling at his hair with one hand. Was someone playing a joke on him? He had hauled a dragon into his apartment. He knew that. He _felt_ it. But this was not a dragon. This was, at most, a twenty year old guy from some renaissance convention. Very much not a dragon.

His exclamation seemed to wake the guy up, as he snapped his head up and stared blearily at Marceau. His eyes were the same vivid green as the dragon from last night. His pupils were slit like a snake’s and one was bloodshot. “Uhm…” His voice was hoarse and raspy; either someone who hadn’t drank in a while or just woke up.

Marceau stared at the guy with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what was going on in his life right now. He just wanted to relax and now he was trying to figure out where the dragon had gone and why he had a guy on his couch. Even if he was kinda cute―but that was an even dumber thought than taking in a dragon. “Wh… Who are you…?”

“I―I don’t…” Carefully sitting up, the guy looked around warily before wincing. He was highly confused and lost, but that didn’t stop the pain spreading over him. If only that initial wake-up haze had lasted a little longer…

For some reason, Marceau’s mind snapped to the injured dragon. Part of him considered the possibility they were one and the same, but… that was even more ludicrous than dragons existing in the first place. “How did you get in here…?” he tried again.

“I d-don’t… know…” he said, shrinking in on himself a little bit.

He reminded Marceau of a caged animal. Shifting and looking for an escape or place to hide. It may not have been far off, considering he seemed genuinely confused. He didn’t seem to be lying as far as Marceau could tell; he was good at reading people. “Alright, ah… What’s your name…? Mine is Marceau,” he offered, trying to soften his tone.

He hesitated considerably, looking off to the side and wringing his hands. Was it okay to tell him? He… clearly wasn’t home, so something drastic had happened. Which he didn’t remember. Not clearly, anyway. “Erm… A-Arthur. My… My name is Arthur,” he said, managing to get it out much clearer. His voice was still scratchy, but he had just woken up.

Smiling a little bit, Marceau still had his guard up, despite wanting to feel like he could trust him. In a way he did, but there was no getting around his random appearance in his flat. “Okay, Arthur… I have a question for you… and it’s probably going to sound insane. I took _something_ in last night… but it wasn’t you. It was a dragon. About the size of a dog. Where the hell did that dragon go and how did you get here?”

Arthur blinked at him and tilted his head. It was almost catlike and made Marceau pause in return. “Uh, well… That’s because… That dragon was… is… me.”

“Come again?” Marceau asked blankly, his brain crashing as he stared at Arthur. “You said what?”

The fact that Marceau gave him such a crazy look told Arthur everything that happened. Not only was he just not at home, he was as far away as possible. “I’m, uhm… a drake… I can… turn into a dragon.” Of all the reactions he could’ve gotten, he didn’t expect Marceau to pass out. Cursing, he scrambled off the couch, hissing in pain, to check on him.

He was out cold, having fainted from shock. Arthur had no idea how to help him, if he even could. He didn’t even really know where he was! After trying to wake him up passively, Arthur decided to just try to drag him over to the couch. It hurt and strained his injuries, but he managed it well enough. Until he tried to lift him onto the couch. Arthur could only get his top half up there before he got lightheaded and had to rest on the floor.

The pain was bad enough that he started “dozing” on and off, head resting on the edge of the couch. He was going through some shock himself, but he at least understood what was going on. The problem would be trying to explain it. Because he would have to for the person who took him in.

When Marceau woke up for the second time, his head was pounding along with the rest of his body. That was what happened when you cracked it off the hardwood floor. Sitting up carefully after lying there a few minutes, he sighed as it looked like his guest was falling asleep again. It wasn’t wrong of him to want answers, as hard as they were to swallow, so he nudged Arthur’s shoulder. “What the hell do you mean, you turn into a dragon?” he asked.

Arthur jerked awake, wincing and looking up at Marceau. He hadn’t lost any of the innocence he’d first shown that morning, but Marceau was more suspicious than ever. Or at least confused. People didn’t just turn into dragons! Dragons weren’t even supposed to exist!

“I, er…” He didn’t know where or how to start. Especially because his wounds were causing so much pain. “A drake is… a race of people… who can turn into dragons and… use magic…”

“Right…” Marceau breathed with an anxious laugh. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to believe that. “And… I can believe you how? Are we both taking drugs now?”

Arthur tried to smile, but it was weak and unsure. Not at all reassuring like he wanted it to be. “N-no, it’s just… what I am…”

“And how does _no one_ know about that…?” Marceau asked, disbelieving. Someone, somewhere would know and blab. In the age of social media, nothing like that could stay secret. All the fantasy novels that centered around a hidden society could never really exist. People were too damn attached to their phones and ten second of fame.

“B-because… I’m not from here. This is Earth, right? I’m from Gaia. It’s a… parallel world…” Arthur said, fiddling with his thumbs.

Marceau was starting to feel lightheaded again. Dragons, Drakes, and parallel worlds? That was insane. He had to be dreaming. Or taking drugs. That was still a very valid possibility, even if he’d never taken anything worse than aspirin. “Okay, okay, slow down!” he said, rubbing at his temples. “One thing at a time. Parallel world…? The hell do you mean?”

“I-I mean…” Arthur sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. It was hard to come up with what to say; he was in pain, anxious, and tired. And hungry, now that he thought about it. “My world is… like yours, geographically, ethnically, and linguistically, but… it’s also a lot different because… we have magic and our races are different… And we’re aware of Earth’s existence.”

“So… if I believe you and we’re not on meth… Your… world… Gaia… is a lot like ours except for magic and dragons…” Marceau said, trying to repeat it back as much as he could without sounding like a lunatic. Because, to himself, he did. None of it could make sense―it shouldn’t make sense. These things did not exist in real life. Magic and dragons belonged in Disney movies for impressionable children. “What… I don’t even…”

Observing Marceau sit back with his hands over his face, Arthur thought it would be best to let him have a few moments to sit with the information so far. He didn’t want to overwhelm him even more.

A parallel world sounded implausible, insane. It should have been. But last night he hauled a dragon into his flat and woke up to a guy. So maybe things weren’t as impossible as he would’ve thought. Even if he liked things better before he had all the extra stress of having an _apparently_ otherworldly guest in his living room.

His chaotic train of thought was at least good for one thing, though. If the dragon was injured and Arthur was the dragon, shouldn’t Arthur be hurt? His clothes looked intact, but… He looked like someone who was in pain. Marceau wanted to smack himself for not registering it even if he sat on the gauze.

“Merde, you’re hurt, aren’t you?” Marceau asked him, redundantly. “Stay here, I’m going to get a first aid kit.” Not letting Arthur respond, he got up and ran to his bathroom. At least he knew how to treat a person. His premed classes were going to be good for something.

Arthur stalled, ultimately just sitting there. There wasn’t much else he could do. It was true that he was hurt. He hadn’t said anything because it hadn’t seemed to be the most pressing issue at the moment. Mostly because he didn’t want Marceau passing out again.

Marceau came back quickly with the whole first aid kit. He didn’t know how different the injuries would be on Arthur now. “Ah… I’m sorry, you’re going to have to… take your shirt off… I don’t know where you’re injured…” He could make guesses, but that wouldn’t do any good.

After hesitating considerably, Arthur sighed and shrugged the jacket off with a wince. He definitely didn’t like this. But there wasn’t anything else to do about his injuries. He frowned as he took off the white button-up, stained in places with blood.

He had lacerations on his chest and arms. None of them were too severe, but there were quite a few. Fortunately, Marceau didn’t think that any of them needed stitches―even if it was horrifying either way. “What happened to you…?” he asked, frowning as he cleaned and bandaged Arthur to the best of his abilities.

Arthur shook his head, saying, “I don’t remember… I’d rather not, really…” It wasn’t as though knowing would help him out any in the current situation. It would just add more stress onto everything else.

Marceau couldn’t really understand why he wouldn’t want to remember, but he decided against asking. Who knew how dark that could get? “Well… While I’m doing this… maybe you can explain this… Drake business… I can… wrap my head around parallel worlds, I suppose if I want…” And didn’t think about it too hard. How parallel did things get? Was it a type of deal where there was another version of himself? Or would that be an alternate world? Was there a difference?

“Drakes…? Ah, w-well… Gaia has… four different ‘races.’ There’s Humans, people like, well, you who have no magical ability… Then there’s Drakes, Elves, and Valks… I’m a Drake… It means that I can turn into a dragon, have… natural magical talent… and heightened senses…” Arthur explained, keeping it as simple as possible. Marceau only really needed to know the basics.

That was a lot to comprehend at once. He wanted to ask about the other races, but he only had Arthur in his house. So the rest could be glossed over. “So… You’re… human but a dragon at the same time…? H-how does… that work? Because you were definitely a dragon when I hauled your-not-so-scrawny ass up here…” he said, thinking of the ache in his legs.

“It’s… It’s kind of like… We have two forms… One ‘human’ and one ‘dragon.’ Both are _me_ , nothing changes other than appearance and… appendages… It probably sounds really weird to you, but it’s just another extension of myself…” It was so hard to put into words. In Gaia, it was just something that people accepted; nothing odd or shocking about it.

So it was like an outfit or costume? Though that sounded trivializing of it. If he could look past the shock, alarm, and growing migraine, it was fascinating. But he was still struggling to accept it as real. At least Arthur was all patched up now. Though he needed a clean shirt.

“Ah, well… I’m still don’t think that I fully understand, but… I’m going to get you a clean shirt.” His clothes might be a bit big on him, but nothing too terrible. He left and was back in a quick moment, coming back with a simple black T-shirt. “So if I’m following correctly… It’s something that you can do whenever…? And it doesn’t hurt or cause any issues?”

“Not really… Young kids always cause damage and act recklessly, but that’s… just kids in general…” Arthur told him, scratching his cheek. “I, uh, keep my clothes and everything shifting from human-to-dragon, but tend to lose things shifting from dragon-to-human. No one really knows what the difference is.” They just assumed it had to do with how the magic worked.

Picking up the mess of gauze, Marceau nodded a little bit. “I noticed… This is… going to take a while to settle in for me,” he admitted. “I never thought that… anything remotely like this could be real.” As Arthur could only offer a sympathetic smile, Marceau sat back and sighed. He didn’t really plan on getting up for the foreseeable future.

That was slashed when Arthur’s stomach growled. Marceau couldn’t help but snort and smile at the flush. After such a candid conversation, he was starting to get a good read on Arthur. He was shy, for sure. Softspoken. And, even if he could turn into a dragon, generally harmless. “I’ll make up some breakfast. You can just sit and relax, okay?” Marceau said, as he stood up.

Arthur nodded a bit, keeping his eyes down. He didn’t want to be a bother, but he really was starving. When was the last time he had eaten? Assuming that time worked the same way between the worlds, at least twelve hours. It would be nice to have a meal before he started stressing about getting home. His disappearance definitely would have been noticed by now and he didn’t want to think of the mess that he left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lycée: French high school, basically
> 
> Bon sang!: Dammit
> 
> C'est quoi ce bordel?!: What the fuck?!


	2. Getting to Know Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marceau and Arthur sit down and get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this 1,000 words shorter than the first chapter? Yes. Is this ridiculously late? Yes. Do I have an explanation? Uhm... Yes? I've had a seriously lack of motivation in terms of writing. And then once the motivation came back to me, it was in the form of a different project. However, I do want to keep working on this because I love the story and concept. Just don't get too high expectations regarding consistency.
> 
> Oh, also, I know a lot doesn't happen in this chapter, but I think that's okay. They're still getting a feel for each other and I'm not trying to spend another month writing this chapter. :)
> 
> P.S. Thank you everyone who has commented!

Sitting across each other at the small table, Arthur and Marceau were both done eating. Dishes were washed and set out to dry. Marceau had a cup of coffee, but Arthur had turned the offer down. He needed to have his wits about him to be able to answer any of Marceau’s questions. There would absolutely be more questions. Coffee made him too hyper.

There were so many questions that Marceau didn’t know where to start. After eating, he was able to sit with the knowledge of Drakes and parallel worlds. It would be a while before he could entirely come to terms with the information, but he could at least accept it. Or start accepting it.

In considering his questions, he decided it would be a good idea to take a break from subjects that led to him passing out. Arthur seemed like an interesting subject, though Marceau got the feeling he was too shy and disoriented to answer questions about himself. “As much as I feel like I’ll regret getting into this… I’m curious about your world. Your accent is definitely English―er, for my world―so I’m curious what your home is like,” he ended up saying, holding his cheek.

Arthur blinked, surprised by the subject. He didn’t think Marceau would want to get into Gaia quite so soon. “My home…? Ah… Well… I live in a country called Albion. From what I understand, it’s the only country in Gaia that still closely mirrors it’s historical counterpart on Earth.” After a moment, he realized that may not be as self-explanatory as he thought. “Er, which is to say… Albion and England can be lined up cleanly if you overlayed maps of Earth and Gaia. And they share a language, even if it is called something different.”

Following along well enough so far, Marceau nodded in understanding. If he just… looked at it objectively and didn’t think of his part in all of it, then he could take it all in easier. “So English here is… what in Gaia?”

“Ilianti.”

A word Marceau would surely stumble on the first few times. “Ah, come again? That’s… not what I was expecting,” he said with a faint laugh.

Arthur smiled and chuckled. “Ah, yeah. It’s a really old history lesson―far too much to get into now. But that’s just the language. People like me, from Albion, just tack -ite onto our country name. Much less fancy.”

Marceau laughed again, less sheepish this time. “I suppose it doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it? I guess the next thing would be… the government of Albion?”

“Mhh… There are some democratic and republic governments in Gaia, but Albion is a monarchy through and through,” Arthur told him, playing with his bangs and biting at his lip.

Observing his habits, Marceau was able to take a better look at Arthur. A calmer look. His hair was a mess of bedhead, but it looked fluffy and well taken care of. Though his pupils weren’t the sharp slits when he had first woken up, they were still thinner than anyone Marceau had ever met. His pointed ears were pierced with what appeared to be  [ silver dragon claws grasping small black gems ](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTSVg83aJDXR0KgysWYgbBFafLqW--4YNzhfRV1AMWYAp3SqtWS) . His left ear also had a couple helix piercings near the tips. Surprising for someone so quiet as Arthur. 

Smiling to himself, Marceau had to check himself. “Ah, so a total monarchy? The king has full power?” he checked, tilting his head.

“More or less. There’s a High Council that advises the king, but they don’t have the ability to go around him. Officially anyway,” Arthur sighed.

“So unofficially, they go behind the king’s back pull shady shit?” Marceau guessed. It sounded a lot like politics throughout Earth. It seemed politics were the same no matter what.

Smiling wearily, he nodded. “Exactly. Everyone knows it happens, but no one can do anything about it.”

“The king doesn’t care that his advisors are going behind his back?” That didn’t seem likely. Unless he was the type that was more concerned with himself than the country. Which, if he was remembering his history lessons properly, was most kings.

Hesitating, Arthur picked at his already clean nails. “I… don’t know… People say the king’s been in a sort of… haze since the queen died in childbirth almost 20 years ago… I wouldn’t really know to say, though. My family are nobodies,” he said with a small smile.

“Ah, well, nothing wrong with that. Though, admittedly, I wouldn’t have guessed it,” Marceau told him. “Your clothes are, mh, fancier than what I would’ve imagined.”

After a pause, Arthur chuckled and corrected himself. “Okay,  _ I’m _ a nobody… My family has standing, but… I like to just sit in the background and let everyone else embarrass themselves.” Nobility wasn’t for him. He preferred to sit in the library, surrounded by books, and avoid all the fuss. The calmer a life he could have, the better.

The more he talked to Arthur, the more questions he had. It was hard to figure out the best time for each one. He didn’t want to jump around subjects too much. “That’s the impression I got… But, going back to what you were saying, the king has been absent―one way or another―for almost 20 years? How can he run the country like that?”

“A lot of people would say that he hasn’t been…” he answered with a frown. “Some think that he still does his work even if he doesn’t make too many public appearances, but then the other side says that he only makes those few appearances to placate the kingdom. I can’t really say who’s more right.”

“That still just seems so odd to me… What about his child?”

“The prince? Hardly anyone ever sees him,” Arthur said with a small snort. “Sickly since birth is what the rumors say.”

Noting something, Marceau said, “You’ve only been giving me other people’s thoughts or opinions. What do you think?”

He sighed and traced the grain of the wood with his index finger. “I think… the situation is more complicated than people seem to realize. It’s quite possible that the king doesn’t care, but it’s also possible he fell into a depression after losing the queen. I’m only 18, so I don’t really know what it was like before.” Outside of what he heard, anyway.

“You’re 18?” Marceau repeated sitting up a little. He had figured Arthur was young, but he had guessed he’d be a  _ little _ closer to his own age. Three years wasn’t a massive gap, but it still surprised him. “You’d be fresh out of school here…” he said with a faint laugh.

“Is that how it works? In Albion, you attend school until you’re 16. Then you either move onto university or enlist. Assuming you’re not lucky enough to be born into nobility. But you thought I was older?” Arthur asked with a faint smile. “I guess you wouldn’t be the first one…”

“You are very, ah… well spoken for 18,” Marceau remarked. Maybe that was the difference of growing up in a decent family on Earth and growing up as nobility on Gaia. He wondered how many other differences he would note before they separated. Which… was actually a really important thought. “Wait, wait, wait. Forget everything else, uhm… What… Is it… okay for you to be here? Like… how are you going to get home…?”

Blinking like he had completely forgot, Arthur stalled in answering him. He honestly wasn’t sure how to answer either of his questions. “Erm… There’s no… harm to me being here… Physically… I’m sure my family is… wondering what happened to me. But it’s not… like I have the ability to just send myself back. That’s pretty powerful magic…”

“Could they come looking for you? Is there any way for them to find you?” Marceau asked.

Arthur nodded, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “Well, yeah… There’s magic to move between the worlds… I ended up here somehow, clearly… I just… I don’t know if it would be within anyone’s ability to do it.”

“Really? I mean… If you ended up here in the first place, someone had to have sent you here…” Though he couldn’t imagine why someone would do that. The question was right on the tip of his tongue, but if Arthur didn’t remember what happened there wasn’t any point in asking. “So obviously people  _ can _ do it.”

“No, they can… But… It’s supposed to be exhausting and beyond the skill of anyone I know,” Arthur told him. “And honestly… if someone wanted to get rid of me enough to send me here―why I can’t imagine―they’ll probably… come up with some story about me dying.”

Marceau grimaced at the idea. Who could want that? Arthur seemed, again, harmless and said himself that he preferred staying to the sidelines. “That’s gruesome… No one would notice, I don’t know… a lack of a body…?” he asked, knowing that excuse wouldn’t go over well on Earth.

He sighed, sitting back. Thinking about everything… he knew it would be suspicious no matter what. But he also knew that no one he was close to was capable of traveling between the worlds. Even if they figured it out and wanted to go after him, they wouldn’t be able to. “Some people would… I’m honestly not sure what would happen,” he admitted. “What  _ will _ happen… More likely than anything else, I’m not leaving Earth…”

Marceau couldn’t imagine leaving his entire life behind―against his will at that. Everything that he built. His friends, his family. All of it gone for no good reason and he wasn’t able to get anything back. How horrible would that be to go through? “Arthur… I’m sorry,” he said, frowning. “I hadn’t even thought about what this must be like for you…”

Shaking his head, Arthur gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay… I didn’t really plan to ever end up on Earth, but.. I can adjust…” Eventually. There were things he would probably always miss from Gaia, but… he couldn’t do anything about it. The magic necessary wasn’t something he could do.

“That’s awfully optimistic,” Marceau said, with a slighter frown. He wouldn’t be able to keep his head up like that. “I don’t know how you can take this so well. I’d be having a mental breakdown…”

“Well… I did have prior knowledge… Maybe that helps something,” he said with a faint laugh. He also probably wasn’t… letting the gravity of it settle in yet. Which was fine. One of them freaked out was enough at a time. 

Marceau smiled, unable to make it entirely genuine. He felt bad for Arthur. Everything just uprooted all of a sudden. But he got the feeling that Arthur didn’t want to dwell on it―he was focusing more on the table than him and kept fiddling with his hair or fingers. There was so much that he wanted to ask, though, he didn’t know where to shift the conversation to.

His hobbies, his family, his friends―any of those could be poking at the old wounds. Anything about Gaia could be bittersweet to talk about. There really were no safe subjects. Though there were definitely lighter ones.

“Well… I feel like we need to lighten the mood,” Marceau said with a faint laugh. “If it’s okay with you… Maybe you could tell me a little about yourself? Things you like to do… Easy stuff like that.”

“Me?” Arthur repeated. He couldn’t imagine what was so interesting about himself, but he supposed just the fact of being a Drake was fascinating to Marceau. “Erm… I guess I read a lot. Pretty much anything I can get my hands on, fiction or otherwise.”

“You do strike me as a bookworm,” he observed, holding his chin as he rested his elbow on the table. “You can’t read all day every day, though. Anything else in particular?”

“Ah… I still have the occasional lesson… When I have time, I like to play music or experiment with magic. It really just depends on my day,” he told Marceau. “The last couple of years, I’ve had to… eh, start taking an interest in family stuff…”

He wondered if nobility worked differently in Gaia than it did on Earth. “Any of the family stuff interesting? Businesses or anything like that?” Marceau asked, curious about everything if Arthur was answering.

“Not really… It’s all politics,” he sighed. “Exceedingly boring and mind numbing. I’d rather do and talk about anything else, honestly.”

Marceau could understand that fairly well. No place in the world was safe from political drama. Why would Gaia be any different? “Of course, I get it. What about the music then? I’m assuming it’s… mostly the same as it is here.”

Arthur nodded a little bit. “I think so… I can play piano and violin both. I imagine we have most of the same instruments.” Older ones anyway. There were probably a few odd ones out in both worlds.

“How long have you been playing?” He played piano as well and couldn’t help but wonder if they had had similar experiences. The song had to be different, but the general lessons would be the same.

“Uhm… I think I was started on piano at six and violin at seven.” Sometimes his memories blended together regarding his early childhood. Especially regarding lessons.

“Really? That’s awfully young,” Marceau said. It was younger than he had been when his mother first sat him down.

Arthur sighed, agreeing and brushing his bangs away. “Once I turned five they started to dump more lessons on me every year. It’s exhausting just thinking back on it.” It had been so hard to get a hold of at times. Even if he did well in his lessons, it usually felt like a struggle to keep his head above water.

“What were your lessons like? I can guess you have the regular history, math, and possibly science…?” he asked Arthur. He couldn’t really do much more  _ than _ guess.

“No, that sounds about right. Magic more than science, though. History, maths… Etiquette, music, writing, and politics…” he sighed. “Eight or ten hours a day, depending on what else was going on.”

Marceau couldn’t help but grimace. He had never hated school, but he could relate to despising that busy of a schedule. It was where he was at in his current life. Struggling with balance and finding no time or energy for anything else. “Shit… That had to be miserable growing up and having all of that all the time.”

“It wasn’t fun, I can say that,” Arthur laughed. He enjoyed the music and writing lessons, but the rest of it was like torture when he was younger. The last few years hadn’t been that great in comparison, but he had some more free time.

“Other than the music, of course.”

They kept talking for a startling amount of time. Marceau was possibly a little too curious about, well, everything, and Arthur seemed just as curious about Marceau’s life. Particularly in any differences between their worlds that he didn’t know. Even if Gaia had a fairly decent understanding of Earth, it didn’t compare to actually being able to be there and learn.

Marceau was fascinated to hear about things that were probably mundane to Arthur. Different countries, magic―even just food and drink. There were so many things that could and would be different that he wasn’t afraid of asking possibly stupid questions.

In return, Arthur asked almost as many questions. From Marceau’s schooling as a kid to his premed classes now. And his art. He was curious about everything. Especially the technology. If magic was something that Marceau couldn’t really understand, then Arthur had a hard time wrapping his head around something as simple as TV. He asked so many questions and expressed so much confusion that it made Marceau laugh.

He hadn’t expected to get a houseguest when he woke up yesterday. He definitely hadn’t expected to haul a dragon up his stairs. But if that dragon was going to turn into an entirely harmless and adorable guy, well, he wasn’t going to complain. So long as Arthur didn’t drop anything else that would make him pass out, he could be okay with all of it.


	3. Life Must Keep Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Monday rolls around, life moves with it. With the weekend over, Marceau has to go back to university and work. Arthur is left on his own for the day with only his thoughts to entertain him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, hi. Yeah, this took forever to get finished. No excuses because I'm just a slow ass writer. Nothing really to note here other than I hope everyone reading this enjoys the new chapter! Also, comments are more than welcome.

Unfortunately, their peaceful weekend could only last so long. Marceau would go back to classes and work the next day and he couldn’t just take Arthur along. Especially when he had no clothes of his own and Marceau’s were all around a size too big. (Had he really turned into that heavy ass dragon? He was so thin. Where did all that weight go?) Not to mention how overwhelming a trip out of the flat could be for Arthur.

All the new sights, noise, and smells may blast his head off. One time, he caught Arthur staring out the window at the cars going by, as fascinated as a cat watching birds fly around. But he was as confounded as he was curious. “Why use something so expensive and detrimental to the environment? Surely there are alternatives that don’t pollute your world nearly as much,” he had said.

When he had let Arthur know about his schedule, Marceau made sure to go over things with Arthur. He had to know how to get himself food and entertain himself. Though he doubted someone with magic could ever truly be bored… Especially not when they were a dragon on top of that.

“So do you think you know where everything is?” Marceau asked him at the end of the night, when they were sitting back on the couch. He had grabbed a couple blankets and pillow so Arthur could sleep comfortably. It was a nice couch, nothing to scoff at, but he may have to find a more permanent solution for his unexpected roommate.

“Yes, of course,” Arthur laughed. “It’s not as though I’m totally helpless. I may not trust myself with the stove, but I can take care of myself. You have plenty of books for me to pass the time with. And I know how to change my bandages.”

Being reminded of Arthur’s injuries―though they may not be severe―tied Marceau’s stomach up in knots. What had happened? And what kind of asshole would hurt someone like that? “I can’t think of anything else, then… I never get unannounced guests, so that’s fine… I wish I had longer for lunch or between classes and work to come back and check on you,” he admitted.

Arthur couldn’t help but snort dryly, raising an eyebrow at Marceau. It was nice, the concern, but it was very much unneeded. Injured and in a foreign world or not, he was far from helpless. “Ah, it’s fine, really. I’m not a child. I appreciate all the worry, but it sounds like you have enough on your plate.”

After a moment, Marceau laughed a bit and nodded. “You’re right… Sorry. I guess I can’t get it out of my head how I found you bleeding in that bush. Dragon or not, it really freaked me out.”

“I figured the dragon part was the main reason you freaked out, going by what you told me,” he remarked with a slight smile. When Marceau snorted, Arthur chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry so much. Whatever happened is back in Gaia. I don’t remember it, but… once my injuries heal, it’s in the past.” Would it be hard to live on Earth and leave everything in Gaia behind? Yes, but he didn’t have a choice. The magic to move between the worlds was far out of his skillset.

Marceau wasn’t so sure about that, but there was no point in arguing with Arthur about it. They still barely knew each other and it wasn’t his place. Instead, he just offered Arthur a smile. “Alright, well, once you heal up, you’re going to have to show me that dragon form of yours. I should be able to handle it by then.”

“It won’t take me that long to recover,” Arthur told him, smile more teasing than anything else.

He felt like an idiot, stalling for a moment, but Marceau wasn’t sure how to react to that. “You’re making fun of me? Forgive me for not being mentally prepared for a dragon magicking into my life,” he scoffed, raising a brow as Arthur laughed.

“I wouldn’t call it making fun… Just saying the fact that you passed out doesn’t bode well for your ability to, ah… settle with all this new information,” he said. So maybe he was kind of making fun of him, but it was only to lighten the situation. There had been enough serious conversations so far.

“Ha! I think we have different ideas on what ‘making fun of’ means.” The problem was that he couldn’t even say Arthur was wrong. It was difficult to argue what happened that morning. The morning that already felt like days ago. God, did he really have to back to class in the morning? He knew he was going to be horribly distracted…

It was later than normal for Marceau when he finally went to bed. Oddly, he didn’t feel as exhausted as he would have thought. His entire body was still sore from hauling Arthur up the stairs, but his mind was wired.

His life had been hectic before, between classes and work, but now? It was officially a clusterfuck. What might be the biggest thing he struggled with was that he couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Even Ramiro would think he was out of his mind. There was no way to explain it simply or even just Arthur; everyone in his life knew him too well to conjure up some story.

Everything that had happened was just between him and Arthur. He didn’t doubt that he could talk to Arthur about it all―clearly, as he had―but he also had his own problems. Marceau didn’t need to dump anything else on him. Because there was no way that he was handling the situation as easily as he claimed. No one could just shrug and move on when their entire life was uprooted.

Like Marceau, Arthur was laying awake restless. His body was aching and he was trying to calm his thoughts. How was he supposed to adapt to living on Earth? Already he could tell that he had a harder time breathing. It wasn’t hard to tell how the air was so much more polluted there than on Gaia. More than that, he didn’t know much about Earth currently. Historically, yes. Present day, he wasn’t so sure.

Would he be able to function well? It was already a struggle on Gaia. He certainly didn’t want to mooch off of Marceau for the foreseeable future. How much would he have to learn in order to take care of himself? It was going to be grueling, probably.

Leaving his life behind was going to be painful as it was. He may not have been particularly close to his family, but there was still so much that he was leaving behind. He told Marceau he wasn’t that worried about it because… he didn’t want to talk about it. And he didn’t want to put that weight on Marceau either. Not after seeing him pass out that morning.

 

When Marceau woke up in the morning, he struggled to remember what was going on. Which wasn’t a new thing for him, early in the morning. He hauled himself out of bed with a groan, wincing at his back popping. He was going to have to convince Arthur to stand on a scale. No way he was as light as he looked.

Going about his morning routine was definitely different with Arthur sleeping on the couch. Now that it wasn’t so shocking, he stopped in the hall for a moment to take a look at Arthur. He was fast asleep as far as Marceau could tell. And looked much more peaceful in his sleep than yesterday.

He smiled briefly before going into the kitchen to make up some quick breakfast. Enough for two people this time. He didn’t want to leave Arthur completely on his own. He also made sure to write a note out and leave it on the coffee table. His morning routine was quick and brief so he could get out of the door as quickly as possible. He felt bad for leaving without talking to Arthur, but he would feel worse about waking him up.

So he went outside and down four flights of stairs as if it was any other Monday. Like he wasn’t leaving a dragon shapeshifting near-stranger in his flat for the day. But there was no way that Arthur was anything but harmless. He didn’t even know how to work a TV, so how would he be any risk? …Other than the potential of burning his flat down as a dragon, but he wasn’t going to entertain that ridiculous thought.

He needed to get his head back on straight or else he wasn’t going to retain anything from his classes. It wasn’t a fuck up he could afford.

Surprisingly, he didn’t end up late to class. He thought he might have taken longer in the morning, preoccupied as he was with Arthur. It was definitely harder to pay attention than it should have been, though. His classes were never particularly fun or enthralling to him, but he always made an effort. He had to. It wouldn’t be exactly fair to his parents if he didn’t take his classes seriously while they paid his tuition.

Stil, it was so easy to get lost in thought. As hectic as his life felt with school and work, there wasn’t ever really much that went on. The occasional night out with Ramiro or a phone call to his parents, but never anything dramatic or especially notable. It was all fairly humdrum and routine. Arthur’s sudden appearance―as a dragon no less―would take anyone by shock. It was worse for Marceau, who was so used to his routine that he didn’t even register he had one until it was disrupted.

It was kind of funny. Before university, his schoolmates had always assumed things about him. That he was a partier and had a string of girlfriends trailing behind him. Coming out as gay hadn’t done anything to stop the rumors. If anything, the rumors just got worse because there were some people who just felt the need to try to drag his name through the mud.

Realistically, he had a very boring life even then. His family was strict, yes, but there was never any major drama. At least not to a notable level. His parents expected a lot, but…

“Hey, Marceau, if you don’t snap out of it, I’m going to dump your water over your head,” Ramiro said, waving a hand in front of his face. He was smiling, but Marceau could see the confusion on his face.

“Ah, sorry. Just a little preoccupied today,” he apologized, shaking his head. Definitely preoccupied more than a little. It was a good thing the gallery wasn’t very active Monday afternoons. With getting all of his classes done in the morning, he had to get as much studying done at work as possible. The less he had to study at home the better. Now more than ever.

“A little? You’ve been spacing out for the last half hour,” Ramiro told him.

“Have I really?” That wasn’t like him. He wasn’t exactly the most composed person, but he also wasn’t an airhead. “Christ. It’s been a long day.”

Ramiro hummed and leaned on the front desk. “You seem like you’re in a good mood otherwise, though.”

“I… I am. I’m not sure what to say. It’s…” He really wasn’t sure how much he should or could tell Ramiro. Last night, he had thought that he should keep as much of it to himself, but the idea of being able to talk about it to someone else was tempting. Not tempting enough, though. He would have to talk to Arthur about it first. “There’s nothing going on. I’m just stuck in my head.”

“You sure? You can always talk to me, you know.” That was the nice thing about Ramiro. He had a chaotic family and was usually pretty busy, but he was always ready and happy to help.

“I know. Don’t worry about it, though.,” Marceau said with a smile, trying to reassure him. No point in making Ramiro worry over anything. “I’m just tired.”

Ramiro smiled and leaned forward a little more. “Oh? Busy night?”

“Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter,” he laughed. It’d been a while for anything like that. And he wasn’t worried about it in the slightest. There were more important things to focus on. Like the Drake in his flat.

“Ah, well… Too bad, then.”

 

When Arthur woke up that morning, he had been confused again. It was still hard to let it settle that he was on Earth and not Gaia. As he laid on the (actually fairly comfortable) couch, he wondered what his family was doing. And his friends. It was impossible to keep his mind from going there. Even if he knew he shouldn’t.

Sighing, he sat up and looked for a clock for the time. It wasn’t horribly late, but nine was still later than he would normally sleep in. He was so used to getting up around dawn… There was going to be a lot to adjust to. But he had plenty of time for it. He wasn’t getting back to Gaia any time soon. If ever.

The thought made him feel heavier as he stood up, wincing as his body protested. He was still stiff and his wounds ached. He needed to change his bandages before doing anything else. Fortunately for him, Marceau had left the first aid kit on the coffee table. Along with a note wishing him well for the day and letting know where to find breakfast.

He felt weird about just yanking the shirt off over his head, but he was there alone so there was no point to being bashful. The sooner he changed the bandages, the better. He was surprisingly hungry.

It stung to peel the bandages off, even if his injuries weren’t exactly severe―not that they were minor either. Arthur hissed, grimacing at the sight of the bandages, tacky with spots of blood. It hadn’t felt like he slept restlessly, but he was evidently wrong. There was no other reason for him to still be bleeding.

It was a painful process to clean his injuries. The disinfectant that Marceau gave him burned like a bitch. He felt oddly glad that Marceau wasn’t around to hear him curse. “Bloody fucking hell… I hate that shite,” he muttered to himself.

After he covered his injuries with fresh bandages, he laid on the couch to rest. His injuries really weren’t that bad… Why did it burn so damn much? He didn’t remember it hurting that much initially.

It was another ten minutes before Arthur got off the couch and felt comfortable wandering into the kitchen. It felt so strange in many ways. He was in an entirely different world and he was in a stranger’s home. He knew Marceau said it was fine to help himself, but he just felt _weird_ about it.

He managed to find food and heat it up with… minimal difficulty. He wasn’t entirely sure about how to work everything in Marceau’s kitchen. It was a slight struggle to recall everything Marceau told him last night. Rather than dwell on wondering how he was supposed to adapt and learn so much in order to just keep living, he sat down at the table to eat.

It would be easy to spend the day mulling over his life and what had happened. Most people probably would. Arthur usually had a different way of going about things than most people, though. His tutors had always commented on it―usually with exasperation. So instead of dwelling on the situation, he disregarded the anxiety settling in his stomach and returned to the living room.

There wasn’t much that he could really do on his own. He had no idea how to use most things on Earth. Things being shown to him didn’t mean he would know what the fuck to do with them. It would take him a while to learn how to function.

One thing that he could do that was the same across both worlds was read. Marceau didn’t have a vast collection of books, but he had enough to keep Arthur busy for a while. It was tempting to practice his magic, to see if anything had changed due to moving between worlds, but… He didn’t think he had the energy for it. (And he recalled reading that there was no changes other than magic taking more effort.)

Reading proved harder to focus on than he initially thought. His mind was easily distracted and every little distraction brought his thoughts back to Albion. It was afternoon when he finally gave up, dropping the book with a heavy sigh.

He was just wasting his time. There was no way for him to completely keep his mind off of his situation. Any attempt had likely been futile, considering his tendency to get lost in his head. He still refused to sit around and mourn his situation. There was no point in dwelling on something he couldn’t fix.

He considered taking a nap, but his mind was far too active for that. It always was. He hadn’t been able to take a nap without aids since he was a little kid. There was always something he was thinking about, something running around in his head.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to practice magic in Marceau’s flat. He had no idea what it would do to the electronics. It would be a good way to entertain himself, though. He always enjoyed playing around with magic and experimenting. He could pass the time and distract himself.

Sitting with his legs crossed under him, Arthur sighed before focusing on his magic. It was only a moment before the room was filled with a green light from his hands. The light from his hands then turning into balls that rose into the air before morphing into multiple small dragons that resembled Arthur’s own dragon form.

He gave them a small amount of autonomy, letting them wander around the sitting room. They were harmless, so he had no worry about them causing trouble. The miniature dragons were pure energy. Creating them hadn’t taken as much out of him as he would have thought.

Content with watching the dragons fly around and occasionally land on him, Arthur sat back and relaxed. It was easier to focus on the magic than it was the book. He recalled being taught that a person’s mind was naturally drawn to magic creations. It was almost like an extension of his consciousness. Which made them a good distraction indeed.

It was tempting to shift into his other form, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. His injuries would be worsened by the process. The pain wouldn’t be worth it. He would have to wait until everything was healed up. The idea of having to wait a couple weeks made him highly impatient. If only he had any skill for healing magic.

 

By the time Marceau made it back to his flat, he was fighting back yawns. Mondays were always bad, but the early evening had turned into a mess of whining artists and hagglers. On top of the studying that he still had to get done, he was in a moment of regretting his life choices.

In the midst of his internal complaining, he had nearly forgotten about Arthur. (As ludicrous as that sounded.) It hit full force when he was going up the stairs and he paused on one of the landings. He wondered how Arthur had done during the day, if he entertained himself or was in much pain.

“Arthur?” he called, when he came into the flat. “How have you…” He trailed off as he caught sight of his living room. He wasn’t sure how to process it.

The living room was filled with what he could only assume to be magic. Ethereal spheres dotted his ceiling along the walls and there were miniature dragons flying around. The dragons reminded him of Arthur on Saturday evening and were about the size of his hand. The spheres and the dragons were both a rich green and glowing.

“Wh…”

“Ah! Uhm… I got… bored and started… erm, playing around…?” Arthur said with a sheepish smile. “I―I can dissipate them…” He had forgotten Marceau would be coming home soon. Hopefully he wouldn’t pass out again.

“No, don’t.” Marceau surprised himself by how quickly he said it. There was something captivating about the sight. It had startled and shocked him at first, but he was enthralled by the magic. He dropped his bag without thinking about it and wandered further into the room. “Is this… just something you can do? Because… it’s amazing…”

Arthur stammered a little bit, surprised by Marceau’s reaction. And maybe he blushed a bit. Just a little. “Uh, y-yeah… Though it’s… not really that much effort…” Even with being on Earth instead of Gaia. It had been easier than he expected.

“That may be, but… I’ve never seen anything like this before…” Marceau said with a grin forming. He could only compare it to filling his room with strings of lights. Even that wouldn’t accomplish the same effect, though.

As one of the dragons flew up to his face, Marceau paused and laughed slightly. It hovered in his face for a moment before flying past his head, blowing his hair around. Arthur smiled and relaxed a bit. “They’re, uhm… playful…”

“So you’re not controlling them?” he asked, Arthur shaking his head in answer. “How can… You know, I think I’ll just accept it as it is.” As fascinating as it was, he didn’t need any more overload of explanations. Accepting things as they were might be the easiest for him in the long run.

Deciding that his studying and assignments could wait a while, Marceau made himself comfortable on the couch with Arthur. He knew that he had things that needed to get done, but he was willing to ignore them in favor of the magic show. He didn’t know how Arthur was doing any of it, but he was happy to enjoy it.

Saturday had been terrifying with finding a dragon outside his building, which he had decided to carry up to his flat for some inane reason. Sunday had been overwhelming and filled with confusing explanations when the dragon turned into a Brit from another world. And Monday… Maybe Monday wasn’t so bad after all. A magic lightshow after a long day was a hell of a way to relax, but he was more than willing to take it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever want updates on this story or have questions, feel free to message me on tumblr. My username is the same as my name here!


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